Updates

We took Bri to the doctor and he said he'd be impressed if she knew more than thirty words. Knows meaning, says and identifies objects or actions to the word. I said she knew the requisite twenty words for an almost two year old, he tickled her, she fell in love, she grew stronger hatred for the lady who gives the shots, and we left. Upon telling Travis he decided to make a list of all the words she does know, and associates with things correctly. She knows over 100 words. Not just like she says it for no reason. She knows what she's saying. The small list is as follows.

Car-sees car
Truck-sees truck, hears garbage truck
Airplane-looks up and see airplane, points in correct direction
Big-derived from "crazy beak" her toy penguin(crazy beak is when a bird does that shaking beak thing...it's affectionate)
Elmo-duh
Apple-round food
Orange-orange/cutie
Pear
Eat Food-usually grabs hand while saying this and directs you to food source(kitchen)
Bus-her bus toy
Doggie-dogs, or her specific dog toy
Moggie-derivative of Maddie her grandparents beagle
Birdy-birds, and Emmy the bird
Sit-to sit, when she wants you to sit
Dance-wants to dance to pentatonix daft punk on youtube(her favorite song)
Bear-stuffed bears
A-referring to any letter of the alphabet
Mommy
Daddy
Baba-grandma or grandpa
Chew-Julia (aka the Ju)
Eli-her friend Eli, she also says bye bye Eli when she leaves his house
Baba-sippy cup
Milk-milk
Pizza-pizza
Ice cream-ice cream, sour cream(to her disappointment), and whipped cream
Chok Chok-Chocolate and jacket
Bite-when she wants a bite
More-when she wants more
All gone- all done, get this food out of my face mama
Cheeshush-Jesus pictures (best lisp ever)
Amen-At the end of a prayer of course, unless she's being feisty and points at Julia and says Chew...AMEN! (not sure if that's a threat or not...)
Houst-Our new house
Color-crayons, and to color with markers, drawing, etc.
wawa/water- water, she rarely says it water..but sometimes she succeeds. Wawa is easier/lazy
Ball-balls of any kind
Fishy-fish/stuffed bunny
Bagel-muffins and bread and bagels
Cake-cake!
Coke-when she sees me drinking coke...oops. I can neither confirm nor deny the regularity of such
Cup-the cup the coke or water holds
Ice-she loves eating ice, and grabbing it out of your coke water
Book-she loves books
Chair-her chair, and all chairs and couches
Hot-when something is kinda warm to hot
Cold-must be pretty cold, like ice or the freezer
Flower-flowers
Pretty-when she likes something
Cute-also when she likes something(not as common as pretty)
Hug-when she wants or is giving a hug
Kiss-kisses!
Owie-when she falls and hurts herself
Tickle tickle-she is "tickling" you...fake laugh
Potty-her baby toilet
Various body parts-knee, feet, teeth, hair, ears, tummy
Pillow-she loves pillows
Blanky-not just any blanket, her blanket.
Bed-her pack and play in grandpa's office
Sockies-socks
Shoes-shoes and boots

That's just the preliminary list, I'm sure I'll hear about words I missed. Hearing the doctor say she's smart is like a yay moment. I know not everyone's kid is strong in the same points, and that early development milestones are subjective. This is not meant to shame or hurt anyone's feelings and not to make anyone think their own kid is dumb, it's just an update from her doctor and a moment of mommy pride.


In Heather related news, the withdrawal is going well. My mind is mine, and my patience seems to be all that is affected on my days between pills. I do however recognize when I'm getting ridiculously impatient with Bri. Mostly my problem is trembling like a sober tweaker, and headaches, oh and crying at tv commercials. I like that my thoughts are mine again though, and that I can feel again. The weird ideas that were plaguing me with the zoloft only return when it's in my system, so I'm kind of stubborn about taking it when I'm getting a really bad headache or really bad shakes.

Travis is...Travis. Nothing really newsworthy to report. He's amazing and I love him. He's a great dad. He's getting better at his job. I'm not sure he would like me bragging. Oh, he found us a new place, I will put pictures on facebook. I like it, love that it's just us again. Yay!


Hope you all have a great Thanksgiving!
-Heather

My depression story

I really feel like it's hard to people to talk about debilitating depression, or even seek help. Even now I wonder if anyone cares what I'm going through, aside from close family, or if telling my small story will help anyone. On the off chance that it helps someone, and on the serious note that I need to vent without judgement or feeling weird.

I'm a control freak. Not crazy control everything, but crazy when it comes to my mind and body. Aside from being a Mormon, I would probably never drink due to lack of control it creates. I'm aware of anything amiss in my mind and my body. Which is why a month early I tried to convince a doctor that I was in labor. I remember feeling like I wanted to punch Travis in the face, which to me was crazy. I just knew something was wrong and I panicked. Apparently, that's normal. I got a long lecture from the doctor as I sobbed that I needed to not waste everyone's time simply because pregnancy was hard. He made me feel so small, and yet I needed to hear it. I knew something wasn't right, but I was right enough to know I wasn't crazy enough to be strapped to a bed in the loony bin till my due date. I also refused to be that woman who decided to terminate her third trimester baby in boulder because of pregnancy depression. May that woman feel the full weight of her decision one day, and her guilt rest as heavily on the husband and psychiatrist that also felt that was a good decision. I won't link to an article about her, because it's sad and disgusting at the same time. The story is relevant because it's a medically proven disorder in women when they want to hurt their unborn child. I don't know why on earth anyone would ever think that was okay. I knew that hurting my baby would be a bad thing, but I wasn't there yet. The thought of cutting her out of me and taking her to the hospital (cuz I'm such a loving mother if I cut my baby out [LoCo]) had crossed my mind, so I went to my doctor.

I was given 25mg of sertraline, aka Zoloft. The initial side effects were annoying; insomnia and nausea if I remember correctly. It's been heaven sent, truly. It helped me be calm, it stopped my panic attacks that on one occasion almost stressed me into premature labor, mostly just bad cramps. I also think it helped quell the new mom crazy I might have been. I felt in control, and relaxed.

Until a few months ago. It started with dreams of...well I don't want to get weird so let's just say adulterous dreams. They weren't unappealing dreams, but I woke in a panic that my inner thoughts would stoop so low or even think about such things. They got worse, and I started crying over silly matters. I started telling Travis he wasn't fulfilling my needs, and he needed to focus on me more. ME, me, me. I started to wonder if maybe he wasn't who I was meant to be with. Just thoughts that I tried not to entertain, but they were there. I found myself crying to Travis that I really did love him begging him not to leave me, which confused the heck out of the husband who thought I was fine five minutes ago. I just couldn't shut my mind down. I couldn't control what I was thinking. It felt like when someone says don't think of elephant, and it's all you can think of. My blessing in disguise came when my prescription lapsed and the pharmacy and doctor's office played the putz game of slowly ordering me a refill. I had a panic attack during the four days it took them to figure it out. I called to let them know I needed it now, which they hopped to after hearing of the panic attacks.

However, I didn't realize until a few days later when I forgot to take my medicine that...my thoughts were mine. My dreams were gone. I was able to focus on what I wanted to without a rush of thoughts I didn't want any part of. It was awesome! I also didn't have trouble sleeping the days I forgot to take it. It was then I decided I might need to stop taking it. So far I'm down to half a dose every other day...ish. I went two days and threw a temper tantrum over not having a certain dress clean for church. I even stomped my foot and began to cry. Luckily, my logical side kicked in and said KNOCK IT OFF! Sadly I'm experiencing withdrawal symptoms, so I could use some prayers.

The whole point, it's okay to not be okay. I recommend knowing yourself well enough to know when things aren't right. Prayer is a great help. Sure a prayer hasn't cured a headache without tylenol or ibuprofen, but hey it helps. Prayer helps me to know that I'm not crazy, nor should be ashamed at my imperfections. Prayer has helped me realize my savior still loves me when I'm not perfect. Prayer reminds me that even if the hand isn't pulling me up or wiping away all my troubles, there is a hand to hold. And I want others to know you aren't ever alone, and even with a supportive family depression can be a struggle. But it's just chemicals in your brain and body not working right. It may feel like the end of the world, but it's literally an imbalance. Meds helped me, but they don't help everyone. And getting off of the meds isn't easy. I read facebook posts of a friend going off cymbalta. His life was heck for a while, but he did it! (to the best of my knowledge) But know you are not alone, and if no one else in this universe loves you I would like to offer that I feel Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ love me. For me that's proof enough. The same type of way I know that weaning off Zoloft is best for my body. I just know. Maybe my personal experiences will help you in some way.

"Now ye may suppose that this is foolishness in me; but behold I say unto you, that by small and simple things are great things brought to pass; and small means in many instances doth confound the wise. And the Lord God doth work by means to bring about his great and eternal purposes; and by very small means the Lord doth confound the wise and bringeth about the salvation of many souls." Alma 37:6-7

-Heather

p.s. The storm story was meant to end with the dragon saving her from the prince, a fun writing idea I saw online. But I don't want to continue it. Not because of galaxy eyes that become the man cursed as a dragon or the implications of such a specific poetic reference (which was never intended, my apologies). I won't continue it because it's too good. Why fix what isn't broken? Or continue the story that is so good alone. Eh maybe one day when my brain doesn't feel like mush.

The Storm

     I was to be his third betrothal in less than a year. The official word was that each princess became ill, though everyone whispered. There were vile rumors cycling through the kingdoms. Yet no other King feared for his daughter more than his lust for power. Being betrothed to Prince Gabriel was an honor above all else, even one's life. High King Leon was the most powerful King in all the land, from sea to sea. He allowed lesser kings out of his lack of desire to personally rule every part of his vast kingdom. Giving crooks the powerful title of "king" kept them from banding together against him. High King most enjoyed a healthy village competition. He would offer gold and his most prized concubines; prized for their cleanliness, son bearing, and skills of a shameful matter. The competition was typically who could grow and gather the most crops in a season, or birth the most cattle.
    Cattle. I was being sold as cattle. According to my father, a woman is only good for gain. Whether fain by betrothal into power, or bearing children. I wasn't even of use to my mother. She resented me. After difficulty bearing children for a year, she finally began expecting. Unfortunately, her body didn't carry them long and they were all girls. I was the first to survive the early birth. My nursemaid said that's why my hazel eyes are so big, my early birth. My mother on more than one occasion informed me that because of me her blood would never hold power. The king only lays with his concubines now, hoping for a successor. That is until I was asked to marry the High Prince.
     I look in my wardrobe wondering if I should try to look beautiful, or if beauty is why the prince's former brides are now with God. My theory is the prince has a lust for ultimate power. The power of God to decide who lives, and who dies. I would rather die as royally as possible I decide. My finest silks are packed, and my favorite red dress is the one I shall meet him in. It's a two day carriage ride. My only companion is my dog. She's a lovely animal, and has protected me these past five years.
     See my father, the king of the plains, has a nasty temper. Many of his concubines have been beaten beyond recognition. For my twelfth birthday, I was permitted to go to the Grand Market and pick a few gifts. I considered meaningless puppets for entertainment, or a talented slave girl to braid my hair in exotic fashions or make me impressive with her sewing skills. I found however, as I looked into the eyes of the child I saw a reflection. I saw the same pained eyes that I saw in my mirror everyday. I knew I would never be free, and neither would she. It was then I heard an odd whimper. We had all manner of beasts in the kingdoms. We had dragons that stole sheep in the night, dogs to hunt with, birds that filled our cloudy day with color, but I had never seen such a curious animal.It was a hunting dog, but just a pup. He stood out from his energetic siblings, in fact my memory swears he rolled his eyes but I'll write that off as girlish fancy. He was quiet, calm and met my gaze with intensity. His eyes were a deep blue, and very noticeable compared to his black fluff. Funny how such an adorable creature could look so proud. I wanted him. The seller protested my want for the hunting beast. He threw around the words worthless and weak. He even kicked the creature to prove his words, claiming that the animal should whimper or recoil. Instead the knee high dog walked right back to his spot and sat, never losing my eyes. Instinctively, my face turned into an expression of disgust but I still expressed my desire for the dog. I only paid half out of pity from the seller claiming the dog will serve no one. The seller assumed my facial expression was that for a perceived faulty beast only good for his dazzling eyes, but I was revolted by the type of man who hurts those he deems below him.
     I named him Storm for his eyes reminded me of that eerie calm that descends before the storm. When father heard of my gift choice of a worthless hunting dog, he seemed indifferent, but his indifference can disguise his inner fury. I sat on my bed stroking the tangled fur on my Storm, whispering to my pet that I would see to it that no one ever kicked him again and live to see the light of day. Father came walking in to see my gift.
"Isn't it lovely, father?" I said in an attempt to invoke sympathy and amusement, seemingly asking his permission. He liked feeling above everyone, stroking his ego seemed to keep me from the more severe lashings.
"Yes, lovely." His eyes met mine and fear struck my core. His green eyes were betraying a different kind of evil, a hunger almost. He took slow advancing steps towards me.
"Is there anything I can do for you? A shirt that needs my mending, perhaps fresh bed linens?" I was stammering for something to distract him from the unnerving look in his eyes.
"Not tonight my dear. Tonight my needs are beyond simple mending or washing." He sat at the foot of my bed.
"You are a woman now my sweet, and as such you are now ready to help me with...adult matters."
    He inched closer within arms reach. My grip on Storm tightened as my entire body tensed. He put his hands on my shoulders and forced his lips onto mine. I bit down as hard as I could until I tasted his blood. He recoiled in pain. I decided right then that I would rather die than allow him to take me as a harlet would. He was stunned for a moment because I had never stood up to him before. His surprise didn't last very long, and he moved towards me again. As he reached this time Storm  jumped between us. Before I had time to blink, my father was cradling one of his hands as blood poured from the place where his left thumb should've been. He had a remarkable look of fear in his eyes as he made a hasty retreat. Storm was standing on my bed now, and despite his fluffy stuffed toy appearance, he was a frightful sight. After he seemed satisfied that my father wasn't coming back, he turned to me with a grin. Well, about as grin as a dog could get. He let his floppy ears lower and began to wiggle his nub of a tail left and right. He tackled me with a warm snuggle, and my heart melted. The joy I felt after that moment still remains unrivaled. I finally had love, a protector, and my father never bothered me beyond idle threats. He has since never left my side, still growling when my father is in the room.
     Storm's reactions base my opinions of everyone. If he growls upon a fellow nobel kissing my hand, or a guest entering the sitting room, I instantly don't trust them. I'm grateful to have him in my carriage now. His presence giving me comfort. His reaction to the Prince will guide my actions. I'm still concerned about who the prince may be, but nothing can weather my Storm.

-Heather

Let me know if you want me to continue the story, or if you like it just the way it is.
 

Life at it's finest!

     I shouldn't write so seldomly, but lately little miss hasn't been giving me very good naps. I have noticed if she doesn't give me at least two hours to mentally relax, and doodle on the computer, eat without hearing "Bite?", or stretch with a few yoga poses I'm kinda irritable. Then I realized the only thing I did differently these past few days is slept in with her instead of waking up early and doing most of these things. I'm so glad she isn't one of those five to six in the morning babies.

     I passed my practical boards! Yay! After failing the first time by three points for looking around nervously, or making eye contact with the proctors, I determined to test again as soon as we had the money to sign me up. I didn't do anything differently as far as the actual work. The only thing I did do differently was look at the floor after I finished things. It was no reflection of my skills whatsoever, but isn't that was government licensing is all about? I mean seriously, if a DMV worker drove around with me for a few days I might not have my license. Just kidding, I'm not a bad driver...I just notice that if there are people other than Bri, whom I can ignore for her own safety, distracting me with conversation or complaining of my music choices there are more close calls than I like. 

     Painting. Not in the sense that I'm making a mess, that would be cool. Just digital painting with my drawing pad, computer, and Manga Studio 5 (cheap drawing program). I started with some "commissions" which were free, to warm me up. It was great because some of them I was really inspired about, others I just did because I said I'd do them. Speaking of which, friends if you ever want a painting of sorts I would gladly oblige. Free if I really enjoy myself. Five bucks if you want to print it up at walgreens canvas style. Because that would involve a big picture with lots of detail so blowing it up wouldn't lose the beauty. You can see my work click here.

   While opening my mind to the creativity of drawing, I had a dream. It was a beautiful dream, full of feelings and intrigue. Naturally I woke up, wrote out an outline for the story, and began typing it up. I'm still in the process of, what would this character say or do or think. This might just end up like the story I wrote in high school. It was 14 notebook pages front and back. It was all consuming. I wrote in almost every class. Everyone who read it, liked it and wanted more. Unfortunately, I didn't hash out a general storyline with vague details. I had no idea where the story was going. No idea. I still have the majority of the idea in my mind, so maybe one day. If you are interested in reading the current story, I would be willing to email you what I have so far. I take critique well. It's just a fun side project mostly, but if all my friends loved it and I had a shot at getting it published....I'd gladly roll in that dough. If you like romance/weird scifi-esque stuff, you might like it. If not...probably not, but I wouldn't say it's that weird. 

   Last but not least, the topic I will cover briefly before the bub awakens is essential oils. Don't worry I'm not trying to sell you anything. However, I can't positively comment enough about them. Peppermint diffused and rubbed on the chest of the baby with the clogged nose so she'll stop screaming about how she can't breath through her nose. Clary Sage, lavender, and peppermint blend (equal parts) on my abdomen and lower back for my period. Yes ladies, you read that right. It was a literally painless period. No joke. No painful cramps. Drop of rosemary on the baby who was beginning to get a yeast infection from her antibiotics a few months ago when she had strep. The best story yet, Frankincense for Travis' birthmark. Travis has a huge mole looking birthmark on his knee. To remove it would involve surgery and not bending that leg for weeks. I wanted to see what would happen if I put oil on it. A few days later, he scratched it and half of it peeled off. Beneath where it peeled off is beautiful skin. Frankincense is my current favorite, but I don't diffuse it simply because I think it smells like a hippy in the woods. I'm sure that my in-laws would not enjoy that smell consuming their basement. I'm not really brand loyal. I am a doterra wholesale buyer/could sell person, but I'm just being introduced to oils. I'm not really willing to fork over money for a smell I have to convince myself to like. Some of them, like patchouli which smells like dirt, I would consider buying and not realize they stink. Tea tree smells, but I've forced myself to get used to it. It's helped with my dry itchy scalp. So far I really like Aura Cacia, but it's higher priced than the Now brand. I like Now, but not as much. Don't ask me why I don't like it as much because I don't know. I like the basic oils in Now like lavender, lemon, clove, and my oregano, but I'm not a big fan of the now peppermint. I gotta say oregano is hard to screw up, that mess is strong! I love the smell of Oregano oil but Travis hates it. 

That's all for now. Hopefully I'll be blogging a little more. In our next edition we will cover tantrums and how to ignore them successfully.

-Heather

To be a kid

I love my daughter. I love her so much, and I'm gonna be honest I envy her. I wish that I could be as happy and unaffected by negativity as she is. Why is it that children are so carefree and happy? She could have a huge bruise, and you know it hurts, but she's otherwise unaffected emotionally. So what it hurt, and SQUIRREL! Maybe it's the attention span, maybe it's something more (like I don't know fresh from Heaven?).

I'm trying to enjoy life the way she does. Not only does she love unconditionally, unless you have a big beard and long hair (sorry Denver). She also has many other admirable traits under her belt already. Enjoys spending time with family. Brings a smile to strangers(but won't run away with them). She doesn't focus on the negative. She's super smart, and very energetic. Driven to do what she wants (for example, climb on chairs and tables).

Today I realized I could use a lot more of these traits. I can be...cautious with my kindness. I can be retracting in how I treat people once they've burned me. And worst of all, out of the tons of compliments I get from many of the great people at school, one insignificant negative opinion of me from a person who matters little in my life can send me home in tears. It's rough feeling like you're in high school again. Actually, my High School was great! I had a whole pack of big, bad guy friends who would intimidate anyone who threatened me. I also got the benefit of the doubt.

Benefit of the doubt. Kids will always give you that.

Long story short, I'm really excited to graduate. Unfortunately for my friends, that means I'm done doing stuff on clients. Unless you're an easy haircut I do once a week...you know who you are.

Sincerely,
-Heather (wants to be a kid) Meredith

Stark Contrasts: Death in books, death in life

     I sat there staring at rows and rows of books, each spine no more promising than the last. I was at a loss, and I should not have gone alone. I have this issue at the library. I have to pick up a book, read the cover, start reading somewhere in the middle (and if I like that), I read the last page or two. I can't handle getting through a really great story and losing a major character, or a sad ending. I know it's kind of a spoiler to skip ahead, but I have a good excuse. Prime examples being, Dear John and Message In A Bottle. Both books by Nicholas Sparks, both romance novels, both with life altering loves, both with a not so happy ending. Dear John, I started crying thirty pages in, so I skipped to the end to realize he doesn't end up with her and put it back. Unfortunately, I began reading Message In a Bottle without skipping ahead at all or seeing the movie OR talking to anyone about it. It was late in my lamp lit room, when suddenly a book hit the wall and this woman began sobbing at such a terribly tragic novel. It was not a good idea. When I discussed it with Travis he said, isn't that a movie? I think I've seen it.

The POINT of that story. Yes, there is one.

       In a book when a character dies, you know there is no hope of that character ever coming to life again. Maybe if you're lucky, the character will appear in dreams later in the series (Amelia Peabody series), but majority of the time, that character in all their greatness and admirable traits is gone. The writer might make a prequel, but we can't be certain they'll ever come back in their fullness again. When a character I like in a book dies, my heart is broken, my soul is torn, the tears flow, and suddenly I'm crying in a public place and the makings of a sinus headache begin. [and despite all this reading, my thoughts flow like run on sentences that never seem to end. A bad habit, but I add commas so you get the feeling...I guess]

       In contrast to that, when a loved one dies I am more hopeful than heartbroken. I am not heartless folks I cry at such loss. Today I cried at the loss of a family member (in-law) that I've never met in person, but I cried because despite having never met me he was always kind to me. We talked on facebook, and he talked of how cute Bri was. No matter who you are, if you like my baby, odds are I'll like you too. But he was one of the many in my adopted family that welcomed me. I referred to him as my own Uncle when I talked to Travis about him. Yet, despite the great loss the family has taken, I feel hope. I get the feeling this isn't the last of him. I know that there is more to this life simply because of these "feelings". You can know something is a bad idea without doing it simply because it feels wrong. You can also know a good thing because it feels so right. Death doesn't hurt me in life as it does a book. While I cry now, I'll pray too. I'll pray that this brings all the family closer, and that in turn we all grow closer to God and find peace and joy in the Plan of Salvation. I'm eerily calm in the face of earthly death because it doesn't feel like the end. It feels like a bad day, in a great year. We can't see the year, but it's going to be good if we let it. I think death upsets the rest of the world because it's something fearful. It's the unknown, it's something we constantly fight, it happens to everyone. Whether we fear for ourselves, or our loved ones, it's perfectly natural to fear death. But fear isn't what comes to heart when I think of death. I imagine a beautiful door, and what's on the other side of that door? I don't know, but it is exciting to imagine opening it. The thrill of adventure, curiosity, or a really good feeling.

     My thought today is, try to imagine a world without end. Despite beginnings and endings being so ingrained into this life that imagining them is near impossible, give it a shot. The world is pretty great when you look on the bright side.

    Keep Travis' Uncle's family in your prayers. He was a wonderful loving husband, father, brother, and a great Uncle. Maybe one day the world will see actual death as exciting instead of scary.

Sincerely,

     That girl who narrates her life the minute she walks into a library.

              Heather Rand.

I should join a book club.

Remember the Good, and Focus

       About a week and a half ago I had an unpleasant experience with a client at school. It wasn't through any fault of my own, they were just an unpleasant person who decided to direct their anger at the world in my direction. It was small and insignificant, but not to me. For no legitimate reason I couldn't let the negative feeling from that experience go. It won't matter in five years. It definitely won't even matter in a few months. It might not even have mattered a few days after, but I let it. I let it rot. The feeling I got from that small exchange affected everything. Suddenly, I couldn't keep the apartment clean enough for Travis even if he said he didn't mind. Suddenly, I felt like people at school were all gossiping about me, and I didn't have a friend in the world. Suddenly, I felt like I didn't even know how to cut hair.

I know none of those things are true, but suddenly, they were to me.

       Tonight, I brought this up to Travis again. I reminded him of the experience, which he remembered because it made me cry, and I disclosed that I wanted to let it go. I told him that I prayed about it, I prayed for her, and I prayed for myself. It didn't seem to help because I felt like I was constantly being reminded in some small way of my insecurities. To my relief, he reminded me that even the days school isn't fun I am surrounded by friends. I'm surrounded by people who are willing to be there for me, and even a few of them drove all the way from wellington to my baby shower (not mentioning any names). I'm even really skilled at what I do, even the days I don't feel like trying very hard. He reminded me that it wasn't this one event that was the problem. I just needed to remember all the good and not focus on the bad. It was all these wonderful things he reminded me of that made the original issue seem as small as it really was.

       I should have remembered that above all else, I am a daughter of God. Therefore, I am loved when I need it most. Tonight that love was displayed from the man I get to spend eternity with, if I am willing to try.

       The moral of the story today folks, the good will always win. The good has already won, and we just have to endure until the end to see it. If you find yourself in a pit of despair, ask a few friends what they like most about you, write down things you're grateful for, and help yourself remember the good.

And for those of you starting Lent, good luck! I always thought it was a great tradition to see people of all faiths engage in. I hope it reminds you of the good in your life, and brings you peace.

Sincerely
   -Heather Rand.

From A Loving Heart; for your home

This past weekend as Bri was peacefully sleeping and Travis was watching the Olympics while I played around on the computer, my heart was shaken and my eyes wept. Not for myself, but for the family next door. I have met them many times and I know them, so far, to be loving parents, good people, and family oriented (must be since mom lives below me and they live across). I don't know what starts this, or where their frustration lies, but I hear far too often them yelling at each other and their children. In fact on this particular occasion it was her yelling at him to stop yelling at the child. The child, either the one year old or the I'd guess five year old continued to cry throughout this exchange. I don't judge you nor do I have any right to, if I could do anything it would be to offer help. I so dearly wish I could hug you all and remind you that whatever it is, it's not worth yelling about. I wish I could impress upon you the negative way this affects your child. It won't be a mystery when they decide that hanging out in a friend's home where yelling is rare is preferred to being with their own family. I had a few friends who wished they had been born of goodly parents like I was. Even now I know youth who have a parent or both that seek complete control and submission to all their demands. They protest by yelling and setting ridiculous rules such as you're grounded from church. That blows my mind. Even if my child decided to go to a non-denominational church or begin attending a baptist ministry, unless they suddenly become hateful towards family or become a negative influence on the whole, I can't imagine ever denying my child the right to grow closer to God or become a better person. Growing up my parents only told me no when they noticed my attitude grow negative around certain friends, or become rude and disobedient to routine chores and requests. They also denied me going to certain activities because the spirit told them no, or in not Mormon terms, intuition, gut feeling, hunch, overall something didn't feel right about whatever it is I wanted to do. They were acutely aware when I was up to no good, not that this prevented any wrong doing on my part, but they usually caught me before I did something really stupid or was even allowed to put myself in a situation where I could. They trusted me, but they didn't hand me a condom, leave alcohol easily accessible, leave me alone with my boyfriends for hours at a time, and then say we know you kids will stay out of trouble. Have fun and be good!

Back to the point. I know calling CPS won't help families such as this and many people would argue (lol) that yelling is normal, healthy, or nothing to be concerned about. But the problem with trying to tell me it's normal or healthy is I know it isn't either. I know that there are millions of families that function wonderfully without yelling. Mine is one of them. So what do I know about the feelings that resort to such outward displays of anger or frustration? What qualifies me in any way to worry that this is not an ideal environment for a family to function happily in? What can I say when I have a loving husband, a sweet one year old, and an overall agreeable disposition? Little. I have enough experience to know that things can escalate, things can feel overwhelming, you can feel like you're stuck, and trust can be diminished.

Thankfully, I've always known that there is always hope. Hope has always followed me no matter what life throws at me. And I'm certain that hope is due to my faith in Christ, and my faith that the Atonement can heal any hurt and forgive if you are willing to let it. If however, you don't have that foundation in Christ (which I would highly recommend for every family) you can simply begin with a counselor. Marriage counseling has a stigma behind it. Like something must be deeply wrong. He must have done something really stupid, or she must have slept around, or serious wrong doings on either side. But this is simply not true. I would encourage anyone to seek a counselor because it helps to have a mediator when you're trying to convey feelings in a misunderstanding and to become an overall more loving spouse. I know it helped me to understand that if I want my husband to give me his best, I have to give him my best first. It helped me to think logically before suddenly blaming him for a wrong he hasn't committed. It has helped me to communicate my concerns and get to the source feeling of any negativity he has.

If nothing else choose to love. Choose to be the person who never raises their voice. The person who chooses joy over sorrow, love over hate, compassion over anger, and support over jealousy. If you always choose love, joy will follow. 

And remember that your neighbors would rather giggle that they can hear your bed frame instead of cry that they can hear you yelling at the people you love most. I cry because I love you, even though I don't know you very well. I cry because I know you can have peace, and I'm here to help if you ever were to ask. I'm not just the neighbor that offers a cup of sugar or an egg and free sweets, I'm the neighbor you are welcome to vent to, hug, visit, get to know and one day I hope dear neighbor that you will know that.

-Heather Rand apt 4

A single brush stroke

         Life can be compared to a beautiful painting. Each stroke is but a moment. Many strokes of the brush are plain and simple, while many others display grand design and movement. If you were to focus on a single brush stroke, the painting may not seem wonderful or beautiful to you. Yet as you step back, your breath pauses for you begin to see the masterpiece before you.
        This metaphor can to my mind today as I took in the sparkling beauty of this sabbath day. As I knelt to let Bri touch the cold fluff, I realized you could see hundreds, maybe thousands, of snowflakes. Big, beautiful, unique snowflakes, each one a temporary masterpiece. There are many people content with the knowledge that a snowflake is simply the way a drop of water is frozen in a cloud. But I cannot be content simply knowing that. I an overjoyed knowing that every snowflake is neither random nor significant.
       Today my testimony is this; we are all cherished children of our Heavenly Father. He sees our lives as the beautiful paintings they can become. Even if we only see a brush stroke. I also know that this beautiful world was created to fulfill a part of the masterpiece that is The Plan of Salvation. I hope these thoughts can weigh on your heart that you may feel a fraction of the love God has for you. I leave these things with you in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

-Heather

Inspired poetry

She talks

Talk, talk, talk.
I watch her lips move, a tantalizing dance.
I don't hear what she says, a question by chance.
I don't respond, I didn't hear.
I avert her gaze out of fear.
Yet she continues, I have a sigh.
I could enjoy her words till the day is night.
Maybe one day I'll venture to ask.
But today it seems too great a task.
Away I go, off to walk.
Her lovely voice continuing to talk.

-Heather

So apparently I'm extremely self centered. I was talking a lot today and this came into my mind. Thinking, if someone worshipped me this would be their poem. lol

Animals aren't people

In many circles this statement angers. Although it is truth and a simple statement, it threatens many relationships owners have fostered with their pets. I'm in no place to judge, but I simply don't understand the reasoning. I rationally see the appeal. A pet is loving, I won't argue they are capable of love. A pet is incapable of hatred, therefore you won't find your dog being bitter and vengeful. Most acts people humanize to be vengeful are territorial or dominating in nature and instinctual.

My problem lies in the acceptance of the lie that your relationship with your furry baby is greater than a relationship with offspring. It is simpler, shorter, and easier...but that doesn't mean it's better.

Adam fell that men might be and men are that they may have joy. Adam and Eve couldn't procreate in the garden of Eden, so it's easy to say that once they could feel the bitterness of life they could also glory in the joy of parenthood.

Even if you aren't religious try to think of it this way. Remember that adversity or "trial" you had that you pulled through and succeeded. Remember how even though it was awful you would do it all over to experience the joy of success? That is parenthood. And you never fail unless you don't try. Even if your daughter becomes a stripper, much to your dismay, you still made a human being. You created life. You did that! But this isn't about you anymore, and that's where the true joy comes from. You get joy out of being there for her when she realizes how much she needs you. You get joy seeing her accomplish her dreams, you get joy seeing her joy. You are especially joyous to see her become a parent and when you get to become a grandparent.

My point is, being a parent is extremely hard. Being a pet owner is not as difficult. And in experiencing more pain, you can appreciate more joy. So don't live your life to be simple and choose the easy way. Create a life with someone you love and enjoy spending your life with. It's an experience greater than anything I've ever had.

Now to correct a few assumptions that may come up.

I do not hate animals. I do not think treating an animal cruelly is ever acceptable. I appreciate life in all its forms. I do feel that animals are below humans, but for righteous purposes only. Such as food and companionship. Animals should be treated with respect as if they are equals. I do not think those who choose to not parent are less than me. I feel it's not the greatest decision, but I am not you and it may be the best decision for you. For those who cannot parent for one reason or another animal companionship is almost necessary and I highly advise it.If I left anything out assume the nicest thing and don't be offended. In this world of today it's sad I have to explain all my kindest and best intentions and they are not assumed.

-Heather

It's been a while

...since I posted anything. But I'm going to try harder and write my thoughts more. Since people seem to find me entertaining.

I'm currently watching lord of the rings, the twin towers. Sam just said there is some good in this world, and it's worth fighting for.

I have to say, any good is worth fighting for. If there were only two good people on this entire world...it would be worth it to save those two people.